


Ship Angel

by Pollyanna



Category: Hornblower
Genre: Gen, Ghosts, ghost story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-07-13
Updated: 2006-07-13
Packaged: 2017-10-07 21:38:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/69491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pollyanna/pseuds/Pollyanna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Archie, ghostfic, fog.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ship Angel

Finch was the first one to see her, but Finch was known to be a little loose in his mind, so not even his friends paid him much heed. Clayton was the next one, and even though he'd heard the chatter about Finch's little angel, he was inclined to blame it on the rum, even though he was stone cold sober at the time.

It was only when he was standing watch, and Kennedy came to relieve him saying, "Who's the little girl?" that he allowed himself to look at her directly. He very much wanted to sigh in relief and ask, "So you see her too?" but didn't want to lose any remnant of respect Kennedy had for him.

"I believe that's the one Finch has been talking about."

Kennedy cocked a wry eyebrow at him. "I thought that was one of his little visions, but she's as real as you and me."

Attracted by their voices, or perhaps just realising they were talking about her, the slight form moved soundlessly to stand before them. She seemed to be about nine or ten years old, dressed in a grey dress, and so pale-skinned she almost appeared to glow in the gathering dusk. Unremarkable, until she looked up at them with her grey eyes, eyes that were completely empty, or perhaps they were full. Full of a loss so great that even the sea seemed to shrink beside them.

"Or possibly not," muttered Kennedy.

Finch scurried towards them, a knuckle to his brow. "Come away now, Miss Susanna. You mustn't bother the officers." She dropped a neat curtsey and followed Finch away to a quiet piece of deck by the launch, where she sat down and watched as Finch began to tie different knots.

The following day Clayton and Kennedy began to make inquiries amongst the crew. Discreetly trying to discover if any families had ever travelled on board, and if any of those children had suffered an accident. Discreetly, since many of the crew still couldn't see Susanna. Kennedy had wondered about mentioning her to Hornblower, but had seen him walk right past her without even breaking stride, so decided not to waste his words. Eventually they came up with a Captain Simmonds who had always sailed with his family when in home waters, and had a healthy two year old daughter when he left the ship seven years previously, although her name had been variously recalled as Hannah or Annie.

Armed with this information, they found themselves at a loss about what to do with it. Neither of them felt up to the task of interrogating the tragic figure, and there was no clergyman on board to perform an exorcism. Anyway, it wasn't as if she was disturbing the crew. Those who couldn't see her were unconcerned, and those who could began to think of her as a symbol of good luck. So, the two young officers doffed their caps to her when they passed her, and she would gravely curtsey in return. She seemed content to wander around the ship in the daylight hours, watching the men at work, and particularly engrossed by any small task that Finch was engaged in. Kennedy swore that he'd once seen her playing at Cat's Cradle with the man. She became part of the pattern of shipboard life until the day the mist arose.

Clayton was looking up at the fog-shrouded tops with a frown on his face, when a soft voice asked, "Is it nearer to heaven up there?" It was the first time Miss Susanna had spoken to him, and he gaped at her with what he later recalled to be an embarrassing lack of intellect. Luckily he was saved by Kennedy stepping forward.

"Do you want to go to heaven?"

"No, not yet, but I miss their voices."

"Oh, my dear," Clayton found his voice and without hesitation bent to take her small hands in his, even though they were icy to the touch. "I've never heard anything from there, but if you want to try we can take you up."

"Yes," said Kennedy in a strange voice, "now would be a good time to go up."

Susanna dropped her eyes, and immediately seemed less an unquiet spirit, and more an anxious little girl. "I'm afraid of falling."

"Not to worry," said Clayton. "Someone will be with you all the way, and if you want to come down at any time, even on the very first step, they'll guide you back."

She nodded and turning around, marched to the foot of the shrouds, almost disappearing as the mist swirled around in the breeze.

"Lieutenant Kennedy, have Finch go up beside her and ready to swing underneath if she should slip. You follow on behind, ready to carry her if need be."

"Aye, aye, Clayton."

She must have led an active live, since she climbed sturdily and never once tangled her feet in her skirts. The height didn't seem to worry her, but the fact that it was difficult to see very far in the fog probably helped. Kennedy came up through the lubber's hole for the first time in many years, and would have stopped there for a rest. But, as soon as Finch was on the next set of shrouds, she carried on to the highest top, below the topgallant, and Kennedy scrambled to get in position behind her.

Once she had reached the platform she sat down with a gasp, and Kennedy settled beside her after ordering Finch down to the lower top to leave more room for them.

"Well done, Miss Susanna. I've seen grown men not able to do that, and certainly not in one attempt."

The smallest of smiles crossed her face, the first he'd even seen there. "Thank you. I used to follow my brother Daniel everywhere. He was going to be a midshipman, and thought he should practise by climbing lots of trees."

They sat for a while, listening to the wind and the rigging, and the eerie cries of sea birds.

"I can't hear them. Perhaps I should call to them."

"I think that would be a good idea."

Her voice seemed as unearthly as the gulls, as she cried out, "Mother. Father. Daniel. Ruth. Hope." They were silent for a while before she whispered, "Hope probably can't call back. She was only two. But I'll try once more."

Silence greeted her call from above, although there were shouts from the deck. A quickly stifled sob shook her, and Kennedy placed an arm around her thin back.

"I'm sorry, my dear."

"Thank you, Lieutenant. And I'm sorry for taking you away from your duties," she said with prim courage.

"Well, you could help me with my duties before we go down. There's something the captain needs to know, and you could tell him."

\----

A few minutes previously on the deck, the captain and first lieutenant had been disturbed in their conversation by a woman rushing from the stern quarter, her clothes in disarray.

"Miss Susanna is not in her bed, sir, she must have got up early, and I can't find her in any of the cabins."

"Calm yourself, Betsy, she's probably just found a quiet place on deck as usual," said the first lieutenant in an unruffled voice even as he exchanged a worried look with his captain, and his glance was inexorably drawn beyond towards the entry port.

"Matthews," he yelled, and the bosun popped out of the fog like a Jack-in-the-box. "Tell the men to look ..."

His order was interrupted by a shrill call from the sky. "Good Lord," he breathed.

Matthews was more vocal. "It's Miss Susanna," he yelled. "She's up in the tops." He turned and began to order the hands up the rigging, but at the same time the first lieutenant was springing across the deck and up the shrouds on the main mast with the agility of a yardman. A scant minute later his head popped over the edge of the highest top.

"Hello, William," said Kennedy with a wry smile in his voice. "Been dragged off any cliffs recently?"

First lieutenant Bush completely ignored this sally, and bellowed down to the deck, "She's here, safe and sound." Before turning to say to Miss Susanna in a quieter voice, "You gave us a scare there, lass. What could we have said to your uncle if we'd lost his brother's last child?"

"I'm sorry," she murmured.

"I'll carry you down now."

"Wait. There's something you have to see first. There's a crack in the mast." She pointed behind her and Bush looked up.

"I can't see anything."

"It's on the other side."

So, Bush perforce had to climb onto the top and swing round to the back of the mast where he was heard to forcefully say, "Bloody Hell!" followed by "Buggeration! Miss Susanna, forget what you just heard."

He thought he heard male laughter, but when he moved back round the mast, there was only the little girl with a hand across her mouth to hide a smile.

He picked her up, and clasped her to his body with his left hand, while telling her to hang on tight. There was hardly any weight to her, but he slowly and steadily climbed down to the deck, testing every foothold, and breathed a sigh of relief when his feet touched the planks again. With his hand resting on her shoulder, they walked towards Captain Hornblower who was looking very stern.

"Miss Bolton. That was a very foolish thing to do. You realise you could have fallen and been badly hurt," he said, frowning down at her.

"It was all right," she said meekly but firmly. "The guardian angels were with me."

Hornblower looked across at Bush with puzzlement, and was met with a shrug of the eyebrows. For a moment his expression was completely flummoxed, then he raised his own eyebrows and took a deep breath.

"Miss Bolton," he started again, but then went down on one knee and took both her cold hands in his. "Miss Susanna, those were the ship angels, and although they look out for the crew, their main job is guarding the ship."

Bush cleared his throat. "And it seems they were doing that, sir. There's a crack in the topgallant mast."

"What?" yelped Hornblower, visibly restraining himself from leaping to his feet again. "Well, get the carpenter up there looking at it."

"Yes, sir," said Bush. "Matthews!"

Hornblower took a deep breath and continued, "I'm sure you agree, Miss Susanna, it would not be right to give them extra jobs to do."

She nodded solemnly.

"Good." And his melancholy countenance broke into such a sweet smile, that Bush on catching sight of it, as he turned away from Matthews, found his own lips curving up. "No doing anything so dangerous again, understood?"

She nodded again, before asking, "Can I talk to them?"

"Yes, if they say they have the time to talk to you, but no distracting them from their duty. And I think you should have a duty too. When you come out onto deck, you must report to the officer of the watch. Agreed?"

"Aye, aye, sir."

"Excellent. Now, run along with Betsy and she'll fix you breakfast, and find you some warm clothes. Those are probably damp with all that fog."

As she disappeared below, he stood and spoke to Bush.

"Get Matthews to assign a couple of landsmen to look out for her when she's on deck. One from each watch. Quiet, family men, he'll know the type."

"Aye, aye, sir."

They stood, side by side for a few minutes watching the mist rise, before Bush said quietly, "Ship angels, sir?"

Hornblower looked sharply at him, but his expression was exemplary in its lack of expression. So the captain replied in equally low tones, "Well, the poor mite has lost all her family to the fever. If she takes some comfort in believing in angels, then I'll not take that away from her. Wouldn't we all take comfort in thinking there was someone looking out for us?"

The morning sun finally broke through the mist, and adorned the ship with incandescent diamonds.

THE END


End file.
